


Yarrow

by xshittylialife



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dream is cursed, Enemies to Lovers, Fantasy, George is just here to annoy him, M/M, Magic, based on SMP characters fanart mostly, potentially, still no beta we die like gay characters in tv shows, we will see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xshittylialife/pseuds/xshittylialife
Summary: Dream is just trying to make the best of his cursed life. George seems really determined to become a king.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 18





	1. a cursed man and a fool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good luck trying to figure this out

Dream has gotten used to living with this curse because what really is left to do when you have been cursed. You cry about it for a while because your own mother hating you for a while hurts you really deeply, you get over it. You analyse it, you learn everything about it, you test it out on innocent people, they start creating myths about a _Clay_ so you call yourself some other name. Where there is a problem ahead, there is always a way to go around it, at least when you’re smart enough, and that Dream definitely is.

As curses go, the one he has been blessed by is kind of intricate, he came to find. He learned of it from his mother when he was six. He doesn’t know when exactly he was cursed, but that is the first memory he has of it. His mother is screaming. At that time it was something new, people screaming at him. More so, screaming so hard their throat starts giving out and they start losing their voice. But there she was, the woman that brought him in this world, screaming about how she wishes she never did.

“You are a cursed child,” her words are a venom. She can’t look away from his face. He comes to find out they usually can’t look away, it pulls them in, the curse just seeping more into their veins. “You’re a cursed child and you’re going to be the end of this world!” just about there is the first crack. Dream has replayed it in his mind enough, analysed it enough that he could lead deep literary class on this exact part of his life. All the people that would come to it would hate him too, but at least he could explain to them why exactly do they feel that way.

“You see, it’s not that I have a punchable face,” he would say. “My face is actually perfectly magnificent. But I have been cursed by the evil forces, probably to stop me from achieving my fullest potential as the prettiest man on this godforsaken planet!” He would definitely pull out some visuals behind him. There would definitely be visuals. Just simple, but effective. He would pull out a drawing of an evil witch just about now. “I have been cursed by the evil forces so that every person that does not love me can’t stand to look at my face and instead feels a burning hatred,” maybe pull out a picture of him sad, angry people around him, that would ease the tension in the room then. They would put two and two together – his mother. The memory. He would continue without a second thought; he is used to it.

“Through years of research we have come to these conclusions:

  1. Yes, all strangers hate me immediately. It makes for funny stories. It’s all good
  2. There is no known way to get rid of this curse.
  3. It is not known who specifically cursed me so I can’t just go to them and ask.
  4. When I hide my face, the curse doesn’t work.



And lastly, the one that took the most time and effort:

  1. Once people hate me, their love is very hard to earn back. Like literally impossible. I tried, God did I try, and I can get people to _like me._ Loving on other hand is quite difficult to come by. If anyone would like to offer though…”



Audience participation is always good in speeches, at least he thinks so. But all of these strangers hate him so they would probably just scream. He hasn’t found out why it always comes to yelling. They yell and they fight. He would end the class then probably, slip out from the colosseum, _oh yeah did I mention this is happening in a colosseum?_

He would slip out into the dark, because that is definitely more impressive, he would pull his stupid mask on (he should definitely find something better than a piece of porcelain with poorly drawn smiley face on it) and then _poof_ he is gone, people are left confused why they even got so angry at the first place, and they would go back to their homes, to their loves without a second thought. They would tuck their children into bed and let the light low and whisper: “There was once a man named Clay with a beautiful face, he looked like an angel, he was so pretty. He was so beautiful everyone hated him for it, because they would look into his eyes and feel everything in them boil, feel every bad feeling at once, all because this very beautiful man has not yet worked their way into their heart to ease the feelings. On a different note, there was this weird masked person at market today, people keep calling him Dream, he has a very cunning tongue but he hides his face, people say it was a terrible accident in his childhood that makes him hide it. I wonder how he sees through the mask. I should probably ask.”

By the time they’re finished, the kids are all asleep and everything is very well in the world.

Dream was good at one thing. Well… many things, but specifically one thing: getting things done. Since coming to this little village six months ago he made quite a name for himself.

First, he chose to live with the old man on the corner that hated everyone and everyone hated. Dream was used to everyone hating him so really there was no difference. He didn’t even realise the man was blind at first. If you wanted to ask if the man chose to live with Dream too, that is a question for another day. Let’s just say Dream is very persuasive and has his ways (the secret is he is a good cook, so the man let him stay after he already infiltrated his home).

Second, even though he was hiding his face from the small village, he still chose the brightest of greens available on the market for his cloak. He was a walking and breathing oxymoron. He was a story to tell the kids and he lived for that.

Third, word quickly spread around that this man is incredibly impressively capable. Of what? Of anything! From fixing your roof when your husband isn’t around to actually finding that little culprit that was stealing their pigs. And then word spread, and he was suddenly capable to find people, to hide people from people, you need anything, try asking Dream. You Dream it, Dream can do it. It was almost catchy. And then of course, he was a magnificent cook.

All these things made Dream, made him the enigma that he is, the village phantom that all the people even miles away know about, talk about, try to figure out, seek out. Then kind of regret it when the old man screams at them to get out of his garden because they’re going to stomp all over his precious tulips. Dream does not have the heart to tell him there are no tulips in the garden.

Dream is all these things and knew all these things, he actually knew a lot of things, but for the hell of him he had no idea what this man before him was talking about.

The day started quite nicely. He baked some sweet pastry filled with jam. The old man can’t scream at him when his mouth is full, Dream figured that out quite easily too. He then passed around the excess of the sweet treats around to neighbours who all agreed that they are heavenly and he is a gift from the gods. And just because there is never enough praise, he made some lunch too. And then there was a knock on the door. The old man was already screaming when he walked outside.

“My goddamn tulips!”

“Sir,” said the man, god not really much of a man, maybe a boy. “There are no tulips.”

“There are no tulips because you trampled them all, you son of a mule!”

The man, the boy, looks to Dream then with a tired expression.

“I’m looking for a Dream!” he says to him now.

“Try sleeping then, goddamn child,” the old man mumbles and Dream laughs loudly. But still sets the apron to the side and walks down the stairs. The old man passes him as he goes inside. “Get this kid off my lawn,” he says to him and Dream laughs some more because he sees the way the man’s brows furrow at that.

“So… I take it, you’re Dream?” he says and looks straight at him. Dream is almost put off by the intensity of his eyes. Now closer he can see each is a different colour, one blue, one red. Almost as if the man can tell what he is looking at, he pulls down the shades from his hair, lets them obstruct Dream’s view.

“You dream it, I do it. What do you need boy,” he leans against the porch railing.

“I’m definitely older than you so stop with the denunciation please,” he speaks very seriously. Dream wants to laugh but stops himself. The man still definitely catches the sides of his smirk, his mask is really too short, he should really get a new one. “I need your help in a serious matter.”

“And what would this serious matter be, if I may know?”

“I’m searching for a very special diamond,” it’s all serious with this guy. Dream is already annoyed. Does he think he is better than him? No one is better than him.

“In this economy? Diamonds are you no good, boy,” he says, lets his annoyance seep through. Calls him boy again just for the sake of it.

“Diamonds are good for rings and I want to marry the princess from Emerald city,” he says nonchalantly. Dream really bursts out laughing this time. He is actually losing his breath, he laughs so hard only wheezes come out of him.

“Princess from Emerald City! Ha! I guess we have found the village fool!” The man is getting visibly annoyed but Dream really can’t stop.

“No fool is found, stop it!” he feels the man glaring even from behind his glasses. “I am absolutely serious. It’s in my prophecy, the stars have chosen this for me. I am to be a king. And you are obviously the only fool this village has. I’m not even from this village!”

Dream really can’t breathe anymore, he is laughing way too much, this just keeps getting better and better. Next thing the man is going to tell him he knows how to make his curse go away. Or he is going to pull out a gold egg from his arsehole or something. Dream hasn’t felt this entertained in years. This is a story the kids will all eat up.

_So I was baking as one does on a fine Wednesday morning. A man shows up in my garden all high and mighty and demands I help him marry the princess from Emerald City. Says he is to be a king. Note that I am definitely taller than this fool._

“I have heard you’re the one for all the jobs. The way to this diamond is quite tricky so I would pay for your help!”

“Pay me how exactly?” Dream now pushes from the railing. “Will you promise me riches as soon as you become king? Promise me your firstborn? Promise me a place in the court that you will build? Or do I get a nice cottage in the woods and a piece of land? Go on, what will this mighty future king promise me?”

“I promise you anything you ask for,” it sounds too genuine and Dream wonders for a while if he should dare to ask, ask for his curse to be lifted. But he knows there are limits to men and what they are able to do for him.

“Half of that diamond.”

“WHAT?”

“I want half of that goddamn diamond, you heard me.”

“I thought the diamonds aren’t worth anything in this world,” the man is now the one smirking and Dream hates that.

“Maybe I have a nice girl of my own, what do you know?” he shrugs. It’s not truth, but the truth is there is nothing he really wants from this man, other than to angry him a little.

“God, I hope a half will be good enough for a ring,” the man mumbles. But then he outstretches his hand and Dream is the one smirking now. He shakes the poor man’s hand, lets out a short laugh.

“We leave tomorrow. Take anything you need. Prepare for at least a week of travels. I will take care of the food and things needed. Meet at the weeping willow at midday,” the man rambles out all the instructions. Something in Dream is unsettled by this all, he wonders if it would taint his reputation to back out now. You Dream it, I do it, except when it is a stupid thing, like getting a diamond to marry a princess.

The man is already turning to leave when Dream speaks again, once more.

“What is your name?”

“George,” the man smiles and then he is leaving the garden, walking down the dirty path smiling to heavens. Dream’s gaze goes right there to the heavens as if they will give him an answer about what he just his poor self into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this magically disappears tomorrow you ain’t seen nothing dudes.  
> Still deciding if this idea is worth anything but might as well post it.  
> Did I write this chapter to get the obsessive thoughts about it out of my head? Maybe.  
> Did I write it just so I have something to post because I’ve been actually missing posting? We will never know.


	2. a weeping willow and a wailing woman

The weeping willow is Dream’s favourite tree but he is starting to hate it right about now, mostly because he has been going in circles around it for about half an hour. _What a fool, what a fool,_ he thinks. _Maybe it’s really true that he is the fool._ When he thinks back, midday is really not a specified time. He should have known better. But maybe it’s not for the worst if the man, _George_ , does not show up. He has an uneasy feeling in his chest. He doesn’t even want half of that stupid diamond! What will he do with it?! Maybe he can sell it to some other fool that wants to marry a princess. He could definitely craft a pretty band for it.

Dream is staring into his reflection in the water and finishing an apple when the man finally shows up. He would personally consider it way past midday but doesn’t say anything. George throws a bag to his feet.

“Food, some water, some useful tools. I see you brought your own sword,” he stares at the longsword strapped to his right hip. “Good,” is all he says. Dream notices quite quickly that his own red-white cape is hiding a crossbow.

“Are we expecting a fight?”

“There is always some chance for a fight,” George shrugs and looks to the distance. “If you have everything we can go. I would like to get this done in seven days,” he pulls gloves on, makes sure his glasses are straight on his face. _God, he is so pretentious._

“I’m sure we can do it in less,” he smirks just because, finally picks up the bag and adds it to his other one already on his back. “Are we going by foot?” he asks as he strengthens the strap over his chest. When he looks up George is collecting some of the branches from the willow and Dream is really just purely confused.

“We are going to need them later,” George says as he notices his staring. Does not explain how or why, and Dream does not ask. This boy is a really peculiar being, so much Dream feels almost boringly human next to him. They then set on the road, walking side by side in silent while George braids the branches together. They should really get some horses, Dream thinks, but says nothing.

…

The sun has already set when they stop. They have been walking for hours, Dream still does not know where exactly. They have been silent for the most of the journey because it seems that George is just impossible to talk to. Seems like Dream’s cunning tongue has no use against a stone-cold preposterous bastard like this one.

They stop at the brim of where the forest ends and stretches into the long meadows. They can just about see the mines from here. George is looking in that direction too and he just sighs.

“I was hoping we could get there tonight,” he sounds like he is not pleased with the current situation. _Well, maybe if someone was on time…_ ”You walk really slow,” George says and he can’t help but gapes at him openly.

“Excuse me?! YOU WERE LATE for the time YOU SET!”

“Will you stop screaming? Don’t want the forest fairies visiting us just yet,” George pushes his glasses up into his hair, stares into the dark.

“Yet? You ever want to?” he snickers, sets his bag down.

“They will be useful to us later.”

This man is trying way too hard to be mysterious, thinks Dream. And coming from him it’s even funnier to think about.

“Should I start the fire, your future highness?” he wants it to be irritable but George seems almost pleased.

“No,” he looks at him with a wide smile. “Not just yet.” His eyes seem to be almost glowing in the soft moonlight. That unsettling feeling gnaws at Dream again.

He settles against a tree right at the border where the forest ends but the fields don’t quite begin, lets his bags down, pulls his cape deeper over his face.

“You should eat something,” says George who is already unwrapping some bread.

“Not hungry,” Dream grumbles. George doesn’t push.

He settles down instead, by the tree opposite him. He hears a soft humming from the man, some familiar melody. He does not where he heard it before, but his brain reacts immediately. His eyes start drooping on their own and he wants to stop them, wants to fight the feeling now it’s overpowering him, but the pull is stronger and his body slumps against the tree.

The man keeps humming.

…

Dream wakes up suddenly, as if he just arose from deep waters and this is his first full breath. He actually feels out of breath, immediately looks around. Everything is still in its place, except for George who is now sitting next to a fire with small cauldron over it.

“I made some tea,” he says instead of wishing him good morning. He reaches to the bag and pulls a wooden cup, dips it into the cauldron, and then the cup is right in front of Dream’s face and it doesn’t smell like any tea Dream has ever had.

“What kind of tea,” he definitely sounds suspicious. George doesn’t seem offended by that.

“Yarrow,” there is a smile on his lips as he says that, as if there is some secret behind the words. Dream takes it from him still.

“I hope you’re not trying to poison me,” he says and then takes a sip, stares right at George. He would like to look right into his eyes but the man has his glasses on already.

“You would be no good to me dead,” he says as if that was supposed to be obvious. He takes a sip of the tea himself and look to the mines in the distance. “Eat something. We need to get on the road.”

“I see you’re already practicing ordering everyone around,” Dream laughs, drinks all the tea, and pulls out some of the bread he baked himself. George takes his cup once it’s empty and fills it again, secretive smile still on his lips. Even though Dream hates it, he obeys. Eats the food, drinks the tea. He feels like he is being mothered and he hasn’t felt like that in years. Maybe that’s what unsettles him about this all.

They pack their stuff silently. Put out the fire. Set on the road.

George still does not speak as they descend the meadows up until they reach the flower fields.

“I need you to pick some red flowers,” he says as he comes to a halt, looks at Dream with his head held high.

“Oh, but your highness, you have been blessed by having hands too!” Dream laughs. This man…this man thinks…

“I can’t see that colour,” the man interrupts him. Dream is taken aback by that for a while.

“I have never met anybody unable to see colours,”

“I have never met anyone with a piece of porcelain stuck to their face either,” George snorts. “Be quick, we only need a few. Just so the woman lets us into the mines.”

“Why specifically red?” Dream asks but he is already crouching to pick some poppies.

“Red means love,” is all George says. “That is quite enough,” he outstretches his hand and Dream lets him take the small bouget. He seems to stare at the petals a little too long and then shakes his head. “Let’s go,” he says and then already is a few steps ahead of Dream.

The morning sun is fully out when they stop near the narrow road stretching between two rocks. They can just about see the entrance to the mines. George walks first, still wearing his head high as if he already has a crown on his head, his speckled cape flailing behind him. There is a feeling hanging over their heads and the chilly wind does not help the atmosphere. _Something terrible happened here,_ Dream thinks, can’t explain why. He has been in enough bad situations to recognize the signs: sweat, goosebumps, cold.

Dream wants to point out that there is no woman when one does suddenly appear in front of them out of thin air. Dream feels the air leave his lungs. _Her long hair seems to be choking her._ All the hair on his body is standing up, a shiver runs down his spine. _She is walking towards them._ A cold sweat breaks out under his mask. _She is actually wailing._

“You came back?” she sounds hauntingly desperate. Her hands are reaching and reaching for George’s face and Dream wants to stop her long scrawny fingers from getting there but he can’t bring any part of his body to actually move. George however just holds up the flowers, lets her snatch them instead. Her shriek sounds almost glorious.

“A love!” he cradles the flowers to her chest. “My love has returned to me!”

Something in Dream’s chest hurts at the sentence, a deep pain. He still feels like he can’t move. George turns around as if he knows exactly what predicament Dream is in. He takes hold of his cold hand and then just tugs him along. Dream’s feet start moving alongside George’s, their fingers intertwined. They pass the woman. She doesn’t even glance at them. She is still screaming her happy exclamations, the echoes still getting to his ears.

As they enter out of the narrow road into the mines the screaming is gone, and Dream gasps after a full breath once again. George lets go of his hand and Dream just bends forward, breathes through the pain in his chest.

“What was that?” his words are only a whisper.

“There is a lot of lost souls in this world, Dream,” George says as if that explains anything. “She lost her lover to the mines. Has been looking for them ever since.”

“What a terrible fate,” Dream almost laughs. “To be stuck in this world looking for something unachievable,” his words are a jab at his own self, he knows it.

George stares at him, lips in a thin line.

“We need some stone and coal. Iron would be great but I doubt there will be any left,” he says. Dream is breathing lighter again, takes a mental note of the list. Doesn’t ask what they exactly need it for. He probably doesn’t even want to know.

_A love_ , the words echo in his mind. _A lot of lost souls in this world, Dream…_

_It's tiring to be one of them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what maybe I actually like this.   
> Today was my last day at work as my contract has ended, so if you see me posting everyday again don't mind me hah. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> (hello my dear wife, i love you, i hope you're doing good)


	3. mad men and glowing eyes

Dream decided that George is definitely the work of a devil. He decided that no man in their right mind would hire another man just to follow him around and fulfil his stupid tasks. So far, he has done absolutely nothing of importance to this supposedly important quest. He has drunk some tea; he has collected some flowers for a wallowing ghost? Phantom? Lost soul? Whatever that woman was. He collected some stones, some pieces of coal and put in into George's velvet embroidered sack. He noticed the braided willow branches were already in there. He definitely did not understand this man. 

"We need some iron. I knew there was a possibility we would not get any here but I was hoping for at least one bit," George sighs. His glasses seem to hide most of his emotions. Dream kind of can't wait for the sun to set so he can study his eyes more. Something in his brain itches when he thinks about them. He feels the need to figure them out. 

"In what form do we need iron? Because we could like literally go to the market or something. My sword is iron," Dream feels like he can't really find solutions if he knows nothing about the plan. George still doesn't look like he wants to share though. 

"I think it can be in whatever form. We need around 20 grams."

"What exactly do we need it for?" he asks. George's lips form into a line once again, it seems to be a habit when he is displeased. 

"We need it to get to the diamond. Obviously." It is definitely not obvious. Now Dream's lips are in a thin line. He decides by if some misfortune George actually becomes a king, he is going to move far far away. "I think the market is a good idea actually. I knew you would be useful," George chuckles and then leads the way out of the mines, opting for the road leading around the back. Dream looks to the narrow road, the goosebumps almost reach his skin but he is quick to catch up to George.

_Far far far away_ , he repeats to himself. 

....

George leads them to the closest town. It's full of people actually, they came just around the time when all work is done and people go out to enjoy some mulled wine and baked goods. There is music coming from all different places and Dream feels kind of overwhelmed after the quiet of travelling with George. 

George on the other hand looks completely unfazed. He is making his way through the crowd with that stance as if people already worshipped him. Some people throw them some glances - a man with a smiling mask, a mask with glasses on his face and a preposterous stance. Weird duo indeed. 

They beeline it straight to the stand with trinkets and metal things, George looks a little too close at the bracelets in the front, reveals his eyes from behind the glasses for a second. Dream exchanges a confused look with the seller, is glad to know he is not the only one absolutely lost on this man.

"Do you have something that is actually full iron?" he asks as he pushes his glasses back onto his eyes.

The audacity of this man, Dream swears. The seller looks equally as shocked. 

"Sir, they're all full iron!" 

"And he even dares to lie to me," George clicks his tongue. "Come Dream, we will look for something else," George snaps his fingers. Dream just stares after his body walking through the crowd. What is he a fucking pet? Just out of spite he looks to the seller. 

"I will take a bracelet, good sir," he smiles a wide smile, everything in his chest burning. He hates him, he really hates him, who is he to act like that, to treat people like this? The seller just shakes his head. 

"I hate his kind. Always so mighty," he looks to the crowd where George disappeared. "Pick two man, just out of spite," he nods to the bracelets.

Dream picks two, one with grape wines spreading all over the flat surface and the second with some writing in a language he doesn’t recognize but looks nice. He pays the price of one, wishes the man a pleasant evening. He locks them onto each of his wrists and then pushes through the crowd. He finds George standing near the stall with wine, drinking some. 

"That was so unnecessary! It's definitely iron!" he says as soon as he is in his earshot, checks out the metal in different light. George just smiles. Hands him a cup. 

"Oh, I know," he looks almost smug. "But he now gave you a gracious discount because you were nice to him."

Dream is actually speechless. He actually has no words. Who is this goddamn man?! Acting like that just to save some money? A man like this wants to be a king? On a completely different note though… He doesn't even know him, how could he predict what he was going to do? How could he have known that Dream would be nice to the man, how could he have known the man would appreciate the kindness? Dream could have just followed him without a word, what then?

He feels his cheeks actually heating up under the mask as he unbuckles the bracelets and holds them up to George. He got the better of him, he knows when he lost. 

"You can leave them on for now,” George says as he takes a sip of the wine. “They look good on you,". Dream is flustered for all different reasons now. He is starting to think wearing the mask is a blessing, he can all about forget about the curse. He still claps the bracelets back on his wrists. He notices George is staring at the foreign language on one of them now. He stares some, and smiles some, and definitely drinks some, the curves of his mouth still looking smug even as he is gulping down the remains of the wine. 

"So, what else do we need for this wonderful diamond?" he asks and actually gulps down most of his wine himself.

"I think we have all the materials for now," George sighs. He seems to be looking over the crowd as if looking for someone. "We should get some horses. We have quite a long journey ahead of us, Dream. I will leave that to you though." Dream really really hates him. 

…

Dream's idea of getting horses is similar to George’s idea of getting cheap iron, if only in the absolute madness it embodies. But it’s going to work, it’s going to be easy and if there is no other option, this is going to work. He would prefer to just buy some horses, but George doesn’t seem like he wants to give up on any of his money.

His idea, as he puts is, is very easy. All they need to do is wait for a diversion. 

"It's bound to happen," he says as he finishes his second wine cup. "They will fight. The horses are to the side. All that is needed is for one to freak out, others will get uneasy. We need to loosen their reins. They will run. We will catch two, get on and ride away. And if they don't find their horses, they will put it to bad luck casually." He dares a look at George one more time, “Unless we just go to someone and offer to buy their horse?”

“I like the first plan,” George nods, of course he does. “We just need to start a fight,” he strokes his chin softly, looks around. Dream finishes his wine and hands the cup back to the man who is obviously in charge of cleaning up. He wipes his mouth clean, takes a breath and mentally prepares for what he is about to do. Then, without a single word to George he walks in between the men talking loudly near the horses. One of them is exclaiming something, his things flailing all over the place. Dream bumps into him, completely on accident obviously.

“Oi man!”

“Sorry, sorry sir,” Dream says, looks straight at him, lets his mask slip a bit, reveal more of his face, his eyes, it’s quick but effective, the man is going red in the face as he just stares for a bit.

“Who do you think you are?!” he screams then, throws his cup to the floor, the men around react immediately. One of them tries to stop him, gets punched in the face. Dream eyes skew to the side, George is resting near the troughs, he sees the reins tied to them loosened a bit.

Where two men start a fight, another two join to break it up and then somehow end up joining and then four men try to help and end up joining and it's an endless cycle of male ego. Predictably, one of the men is thrown back, stumbles into the horse. Dream is moving then too, pulls the hood over his head, takes hold of George’s hand, and navigates them out of the area of the fight, He hears first of the horses stand on its back legs, kick something. People are now screaming. George downs the last of his wine, sets the cup on random table. Everyone is now screaming, the horses are trampling, the first one runs by them to the fields to the side. All the holds let loose and now they're all running. Someone from the crowd of men fighting stops and screams and now it’s them all running after the horses like little fools. Dream’s eyes snap to George, who is just smiling simply, lets go of his hand when he realises he is still holding it tightly. The plan worked a little too well, he thinks. 

"I think our horse ran away too," George says jokingly, the wine is definitely getting to him, his cheeks now a warm pink, confident smile still on his lips as he pushes his glasses into his hair. Something unsettles in him as he stares into those glowing eyes, both so unusual but so warm.

“We should go get them then," Dream really thinks he is going insane. He doesn't know if he will dare to call him a boy again, there is something scary in the way George looks at him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm realising I fucked up because I actually don't know a lot of words I want to use for this. I spent like 30 minutes looking for what is the name of the thing horses eat from and just kept getting articles about how to feed a horse. So like it's possible some words are just made up, deal with it, you can't stop me, I'm gonna make up a new language mwahaha.
> 
> Anyway, I'm way too excited about Corpse's new song, it does wonders for my brain I don't know why. And Dream's new song snippet? I'm so excited! I feel weird expressing myself on tumblr or anywhere so I will just let out my excitement here thank you, you're welcome.
> 
> Thank you for reading :)
> 
> (hey wifey, looking fire today ;) )


	4. one horse and many mysteries

George looks extremely unsatisfied as he looks at the one horse they managed to catch. Steal. Whatever. Dream doesn’t really think it’s his fault that they weren’t quick enough to catch more, George was the one who indulged in a lot of wine and didn’t feel like running. If it wasn’t for Dream, they wouldn’t have this horse either, so he did good, considering everything.

"I thought it goes… I dream it, you do it," George smacks his lips but then just gets on the horse, looks around. Damn, Dream was hoping he would be easier to be around after all the wine. Turns out it’s even worse. Wonderful.

"It's not my fault you're cheap. We could have bought two horses and then sell them when we don't need them anymore," Dream is looking at him. Does this fool really think he will be the one on the horse and Dream will run after him? It’s better to leave the horse behind then. 

"Maybe you should have just planned this better."

"I didn't expect they would catch all the horses so quickly," Dream is annoyed enough about his plan not fully working even without George's pestering. He has to look up to him on the horse, all mighty, that is annoying in itself.

"Are you going to get on or…?" George asks suddenly, gazes down at him then, still annoyed. 

"You want to ride together?" Dream almost does not believe his own ears. This man is absolutely crazy. 

"You can run if you feel like it, but I won't be slowing down for you," he nicks the horse and it starts moving. Dream catches the reins and George just smiles. For a moment Dream is considering just kicking the horse in the shins and letting it run away, far away, take the stupid man away. But then he just sighs, takes hold of the saddle and hops up behind George. His entire chest is burning, their heats are already combining as if the sun was not already enough to make him sweat. 

His hands take the reins from George, then somehow naturally rest on his tights. Dream doesn't dare to think anything of the intimacy. George seems to be ignoring it completely. 

"Have you heard about the place where the fire and water meet?" 

"The Obsidian? We’re going to the Obsidian? Why? They're definitely not any diamonds there!”

"We need to visit someone," George keeps his mysterious nature but leaves leading the horse to Dream. "All that wine is making me sleepy," he yawns loudly. Leans against Dream’s chest more. "Don't you dare let me fall," he says as he settles his head back on one of his shoulders. Dream thinks that his heart is beating loudly just from the stress of this man. 

…

Dream really doesn't mind the weird glances from strangers passing by as much as he minds that George just keeps moving. He switches his head from one side to the other every few minutes as if he has a clock ticking about how long can he sleep on one shoulder at a time. Dream doesn't stop the horse even when the sun sets down because he really doesn't feel tired, so he continues on the dark road, a sleeping man in his arms. He thinks wearing a mask has actually so many positives he may never stop, even after the curse is off. That is if he ever figures out how to get rid of it.

His brain doesn't even think of sleep because it has so much to think about now... He really misses the ordinary life he made for himself. He misses the old man actually, even though it has been only a day. His hands itch to make something, to bake something sweet to give to the neighbours just so he hears those words... _You're a gift from the gods!_ _The woman to the right said a bright smile on her face, mouth still full._ He wants it, he craves it, the love in her eyes as she takes some for her children too, gives him even more compliments. He sighs aloud. George switches to the other shoulder again. 

Dream now can't think about the sweet little life he made for himself because he has to think about this man and what is he actually planning. What do they need the little things in the velvet sack for? Who are they going to visit in the Obsidian? 

As Dream is deep in thought, George’s head decides it wants a third shoulder or something because it keeps falling and falling and suddenly, _he_ _is falling,_ and Dream is luckily quick enough to wrap a hand around the man’s stomach and pull him back on. And if he leaves his hand there, it's just to prevent it happening again. George sways to the other shoulder again. Everything is okay. 

…

This is not Dream’s first time at the Obsidian but it brings out memories buried deep down inside. There was a much younger face under his mask, the mask has been very new then. It was specifically shortly after he learned that hiding his face is for the best. He was talking to every person he met, just to test out the limits. His heart used to stop every time someone looked a little longer to the mask, as if he was afraid the curse would be stronger one day. It did not happen. He talked to a lot of people and a lot of people told him a lot of different things. One of them was the myth of the Obsidian, of mixing water and lava, of finding his way to another world where _anything_ would be possible and getting rid of a curse falls under the term of _anything_ , at least he thought so then.

It did not.

The Obsidian hasn’t changed a bit. There was a bit more buildings now, all forming a circle around the little hill where on one side there was water flowing down, on the other a pool of lava waiting. They meshed so perfectly and magically; Dream was still completely entranced by that. It looked even more enchanting in the night, the warm glow of the lava reflecting in the water.

Like before, there was a lot of people, all waiting in a line, hoping for a miracle from the magical occurrence. He does not know what the current rate of success in that is.

George was still sleeping, Dream's hand still around his stomach and people were looking at them so he strayed the horse to the side, came to a stop by the trees. He was thinking about a way to get them both down when a loud bang sounded through the field and George is awake at once, his gaze narrowed to where the sound came from. Someone hit the mornig gong a little too loudly.

“Oh, we’re here,” he says, straightens the glasses on his face and then looks to Dream. “You haven’t even stopped,” it is an accusation.

“Well, I thought there is no time to spare,” he says almost jokingly. “Seven days you said?”

“That doesn’t mean you will not be eating or resting for those days,” George really is like a mother. Dream just rolls his eyes and gets off the horse, stretches his legs a bit, the muscles stiff from the long time on the horse. George slips down too and immediately goes to his bag and takes out some water and food and pushes them into Dream’s hands. He simply rolls his eyes at him again.

“Eat and get a fire going. We will have some tea,” George says and then just walks somewhere into the forest. Dream just takes a bite out of the bread and stares after the man. The last thing he saw was that he took his glasses off.

With slight unwillingness he still does all George asked. He ate a bit and then collected some wood and started a small fire. He even got some water from the Obsidian, ignored people staring at him and came back to let it boil softly over the fire. Just as he was starting to wonder if George annoyed some bear into eating him, the man was back.

“There is some yarrow in my bag,” he says as he sits down by the fire.

“What were you doing in the woods?” Dream asks but he still looks around in the bag and takes out a small satchel. He looks to George who just nodded, so he let a few of the plants fall into the water.

“Looking for something,” George responds finally, as they both just stare at the brewing tea.

“For what?”

“There are a lot of steps to getting to this diamond.”

Dream almost laughs. Yeah, he noticed.

“Found what you were looking for?”

“I thought he would have left me a note but there was nothing. I guess we’re just going to have to visit,” George smiles. Dream has absolutely no idea what he is talking about.

“Visit where? I thought we were visiting someone here?”

“Oh no, we need to go into the Obsidian.”

“Into it?” Dream almost screams. George just shushes him. He looks to the people still in line around the miracle.

“We need to go to the other side. I was hoping I would meet them here; they sometimes visit our world.”

“They?”

“It’s the protector of the fire, have you never heard of him?”

“NO?” Dream thinks that either this man is absolutely pulling his leg or that he has gone absolutely utterly mad. George’s lips are a straight line and he is looking straight at him with his intense eyes. Dream feels like not even the mask is enough.

“You are not very bright _Dream_ ,” he says his name as if he already knows all the secrets hiding behind it and Dream really felt like he maybe does know them. George breaks the gaze, reaches to his bag and pulls out the familiar wooden cups and there he is, offering him a cup of tea as if he had not called him stupid just a minute ago. Dream is not stupid, no one ever dared to call him stupid.

“If I’m so stupid, why do you need me to get to this diamond?” his words are a venom. For a moment he iss overwhelmed with the need to take his mask off, to let the hate fill George’s meek body, just to see him scream, lose his stupid cool, have some upper hand for once.

“Because I can’t get to it without you,” the sly smile on his lips is not helping. What does this man know that makes him so calm, so confident in himself?

Dream takes a sip of the tea, the warmness filling his insides, his anger calming down a bit.

The mask stays on for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I making this into one big minecraft joke? Hah I don't know what are you talking about. Tbh I'm just stupid and trying to create it in some mysterious deep literature way but then I'm like...I want some longing between these dumbasses. Yeah, still looking for some balance.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and kudos and comments on this mess I'm creating :)
> 
> (ALso Helium is out and I'm literally so excited for it words can't even explain it.)


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